An Ineffable Child
by blueteaful
Summary: The ineffable husbands find a child: you! This is a fun little parents!ineffable husbands x child!reader fic. Excuse any typos you find here beebs, I tried my best to weed most of 'em out. Anyways, enjoy the story .
1. Prologue

It was a surprisingly decent day in London. A bit cloudy of course, but no rain. A particular demon and angel were walking side-by-side from the Ritz. Crowley was in the midst of explaining his gardening methods to Aziraphale. "Look, Aziraphale, I'm telling you, I yell at 'em for about three hours a day and they sure as hell perk right up!" Aziraphale shook his head, "You're just scaring them half to death Crowley, that's a bit unfair don't you think?" Crowley scoffed at the angel's retort, "Angel I'll get you a plant and you can talk to it however you like, and we'll see who's gardening skills are better, yeah?" Aziraphale nodded and opened his mouth once more, but closed it suddenly. "But I'm telling you, you gotta discipline them to get them to-woah where the hell are you off to?" Aziraphale suddenly turned a corner, curiosity present on his features. "Can't you sense that Crowley? It's so pure! I want to see what it is." Crowley caught up with the ever-quickening angel, "Aziraphale you can't just run off because you sensed something pure." Aziraphale looked back, still hurrying along, "I just did, dear." He continued hurrying, abruptly stopping at a basket. "It seems like the energy is coming from here," As soon as Crowley saw the basket he shook his head, "Uh uh, been there, done that, not a good idea." Aziraphale ignored him and opened up the basket. Inside was a sleeping infant. Aziraphale looked up at Crowley with a pleading look. "Aziraphale, absolutely not, that child isn't our responsibility." Aziraphale pouted, "Crowley! It's just out here! What if it's parents left it alone?"

"Okay first of all use they- what the hell am I saying? We can't keep them!"

"Crowley we have to help them!"

"Angel since when have you cared about the well-being of children? You were there during the flooding of the world and you stayed to watch the party!"

Aziraphale's cheeks flushed red, "That was thousands of years ago Crowley!"

The angel's brows furrowed, "And it's not like I enjoyed watching all those people die!"

Crowley let out a long, exasperated sigh.

"We could put them in the bookshop-or the flat-just for a little while?" Aziraphale pleaded. The demon tried to avoid the angel's eyes, even through the dark sunglasses. He opened his mouth to protest, but what came out was, "Fine, but only until their parents come by, which they will."

"Really? Oh, oh thank you dear!" Aziraphale picked up the basket, beaming with joy. "Yeah yeah, let's find the Bentley and get outta here before someone sees," the demon walked past them to the old car. Aziraphale followed suit, the grin never leaving his face.


	2. Chapter One

The basket bounced as Aziraphale held it in the Bentley, the child inside made quiet coos. Crowley didn't notice the traffic, so the traffic didn't notice him, what else is new? He sped the car up to about 85 miles an hour, navigating their way to the bookshop. Aziraphale clutched the basket tightly, "Crowley have you gone bonkers?! There's a baby in the car!" Crowley looked to the basket, then the angel, letting go of the wheel in a 'so what' fashion, "And?"

"And you can't just go 80 miles an hour in Central London with a baby in the car! Oh my G-heavens put your hands on the wheel!"

Crowley sighed, but relented, slowing the car to forty miles an hour, "I dunno how you expect to get anywhere at this pace angel," the demon sassed in a very teenager-like fashion.

The white haired angel rolled his eyes, "My dear, you're still going twenty miles over the speed limit," the demon cocked his head in Aziraphale's direction, raising a brow. The angel couldn't help the small upturn of the corner of his lips as he readjusted himself and the basket in his seat, "But thank you for decelerating a bit dear."

Crowley furrowed his brows, looking to the angel, "A bit? It's gonna take bloody ages for us to get home at this rate! So you know what? You're welcome for this boring ride home, angel."

And then they were home.

Crowley opened the door and got out, "We are never going that slow ever again, a turtle could have ran past us, Aziraphale!" He goes around to the angel's side and opens the door for him. Aziraphale stepped out of the car, checking to make sure the baby was alright, "There aren't any turtles around here dear," he walked past the red haired demon and into the bookshop, holding the door open for Crowley. Crowley mumbled something about turtles while he walked in. A giggle bubbled out of the angels mouth before he closed the door.

They opened the basket and Crowley took off his glasses to get a better look. The demon gently lifted the baby out, a small smile daring to creep onto his face, "Know what, angel? They don't seem like a second antichrist."

"Why would they?" the angel looked at the demon, quirking a brow. Crowley just shrugged, "I dunno, that'd be kinda funny though, the second antichrist just happens to fall into the hands of the bastards who ruined Armageddon in the first place!" The demon laughed a little bit, gazing at the child. Aziraphale smiled as he watched Crowley's reaction to the baby, tuning out everything he was saying. He could almost instantly sense the love radiating off the taller demon, directed towards the baby and him. This was one of the rare opportunities where Crowley let down his metaphorical walls and showed off his true feelings. To the angel, it was a warm sensation that sent tingles through his body. It was as if he was witnessing Crowley's mind change from 'we aren't keeping this baby,' to 'we are so keeping this baby.' It pleased Aziraphale to see him happy for a bit. Crowley noticed the staring and the walls were put up once more as his cheeks heated up a bit. The baby was cradled in his arms, and he fondly looked at them once more before offering them to the angel, "Here, ah, do you want to have a go?" Registering the question a bit slowly, Aziraphale raised his eyebrows and nodded, "Oh! Oh yes I believe I would, thank you dear." He carefully took the baby from Crowley, grinning and admiring them. "They're quite endearing, don't you think so, Crowley?" By this point, the demon was digging around the basket hoping for, at the very least, a note. "Yeah, I saw, I reckon I've got a name for them here," he pulled out the blanket that they were wrapped in. Embroidered at the very bottom on the right hand side was the name y/n in elegant cursive writing. Aziraphale squinted a bit before giving a look of approval, "Y/n, hmm? Why, what an absolutely splendid name!" The baby cooed affectionately, reaching blindly in the air. Crowley nodded in agreement, ushering Aziraphale to the couch in the bookshop, "It is a fine name, innit? Suits them." They sat together on the couch, Crowley had an arm around Aziraphale, gazing at the newfound child. "Y'know angel, we'll never know who their parents are unless they file a missing persons report. We can't exactly go parading about London asking if 'anyone's seen this kid before'." The demon wasn't sure if he was explaining or making up excuses to keep the child. Aziraphale nodded, "Oh, I don't know Crowley. How could anyone in their right mind just forget an infant so young, not to mention adorable."

Crowley snorted, "Easy, someone who's not in their right mind."

"Can we just steal a baby like that without getting into trouble?" worried the angel.

Crowley vaguely pondered that for a moment before shrugging and waving the thought away with his hand, "Nah, no-one'll notice."

Strangely enough, that calmed Aziraphale down a bit. Or maybe it was the baby's thoughtful murmurs. Either way, it left both the demon and the angel smiling. Even as the baby slept, they took turns holding them, careful not to move them too much. While the baby quietly snored, they merely chatted quietly or watched them. At some point, they got into a more comfortable position, Crowley propped up a bit with Aziraphale resting his head on his lap and the baby resting on his chest, an arm around them. The demon toyed with the angel's curls as both he and the baby slept. Or near-slept. Aziraphale was a little too excited to sleep given the earlier events. So it was a good thing they didn't need to. Staying in that position as the baby slept, they couldn't help but think that they couldn't have asked for a better day.

Then the baby woke up crying.


	3. Chapter Two

You don't have dreams, just vague shapes and colours behind your closed eyes. A faint rumbling sound can be heard, followed by a sharp pain in your tummy. You whine, opening your eyes and observing your blurry surroundings. Something shifts under you, causing you to try to turn your whole body around. Then that sharp pain occurs. Your bottom lip juts out and you sniffle. You hear a deep, rough voice, "Right then, what's the matter?" and you're suddenly propped upright. You're facing a blurry red blob, though there seems to be two yellow bits around the middle. You whimper and whine as the pain returns again. "I think they may be hungry, dear," comes a soft voice from behind you. You begin full on crying, wanting the uncomfortable feeling to cease.

You're suddenly moving. The red blob rests your head on his chest and shoulder, his hand supporting your neck and head, and the other supporting your bum. Behind him you can see a white blob, also moving. "Let's get some breakfast in you then, yeah?" Says the red blob. You're still crying. After all, you don't know any better, you're just a baby. You're sat in the red blob's lap as the white blob sits next to you. Something nudges your lips gently. You expect a warm liquid, but what you receive is cold and hard. There's a grainy, almost liquid substance on the cold and hard object. You taste it and immediately spit it out, crying a bit louder.

"You don't suppose they're a bit too young for applesauce dear?" asks the white blob.

"Well they seem real pissed so I'd take that as a no." responds the red blob.

"Watch your language Crowley! They'll repeat you!"

"They can't understand me, much less talk, angel."

The two blobs kept bickering and to be quite frank, you didn't have time for their quarrels. You wanted food now. You screamed louder, tears streaming down your face. That alerted them. A bottle of warm milk was quickly miracled into your mouth. The tears from your previous crying were dabbed away with a handkerchief. You greedily sucked down the milk as the two blobs chattered amongst themselves. You finish the bottle and the red blob takes it from your mouth. The white blob uses the handkerchief to wipe away the excess milk around your mouth and chin. You finally tuned into the conversation, not entirely sure what it meant.

"A stroll in the park would be quite lovely, don't you think my dear?" the white blob said.

"We can go for a walk angel, but we've gotta get 'em some baby stuff at some point today," responds the red blob. You don't quite understand, so you attempt to focus on the blob's faces.

Crowley props you up on his shoulder and pats your back while continuing his and Aziraphale's casual discussion. You belched loudly, earning a chuckle and a "nice," from the demon and an "oh my," from the angel. Not that you cared, of course. You were content and ready to start the day.

Right after you were miracled a clean nappy, of course.

Minutes later you were resting your head on Aziraphale's shoulder as they strolled through St. James Park. You make out vague shapes and colours from your surroundings. That entertained you while the demon and angel figured out where to purchase your necessities. They settled on a shop and, after a bit more walking, set off. Crowley remembered to drive slower, though he didn't acknowledge Aziraphale's polite comment on such. The whole ride you were sat in the angel's lap, cooing at the him and smiling widely at the funny faces he made. Crowley reached over a couple of times to gently tickle you or to make a funny face or say "boo!" to scare you a bit, then have you in smiling and cooing fit right after. You didn't quite know how to laugh, but you knew that upturning the corners of your lips and opening your mouth earned a pleasant reaction.

"C'mon angel and giggles, we're here," Crowley announces as he parks the Bentley and steps out. He opens the passenger door for Aziraphale and closes it once he's out. They venture into the shop, immediately scoping out the essentials. Nappies, wipes, bottles, an unbuilt cot, bedding for said cot, a foldable pram, around twenty containers of formula, bibs, a dummy or ten, and a few random items that were thrown in. Next, they moved on to the clothing section. Aziraphale and Crowley took turns holding you and fawning over the teensie clothes. You were a bit unhappy to be moved around so much, and your tummy began to hurt. So you spit up your breakfast onto Crowley's shoulder. He cringed and miracled the curdled milk away as well as the mess on your chin and mouth. Aziraphale couldn't stop chuckling at that, even though he covered his mouth. Needless to say, you felt much better after that. Ten different outfits were picked out for you and thrown into the trolley. Then they moved onto toys, picking out the ones they supposed you'd be safe around. Teething rings, fake keys, a few stuffed animals-maybe too many stuffed animals, a couple of toy cars, a colourful mat where you could sit and rest or play. The angel and demon had thought of everything. Lord knows how they managed to bring all your stuff out to the Bentley. It was counterproductive since Aziraphale simply miracled it to Crowley's flat. It was around midday now, nearing the evening, and you and the angel were feeling quite a bit peckish. After such a long day, you were more than exhausted wanting to eat and then sleep. You cried the whole ride to Crowley's flat, Aziraphale patting your back in a futile attempt to soothe you. Finally reaching the flat's kitchen, the angel and demon traded off, you now cradled in Crowley's arms as Aziraphale fixed you a warm bottle. You go quiet as soon as you taste the formula, peace settling over you. You fall asleep while drinking the last remnant of the formula. Crowley kisses your head and hands you off to Aziraphale before getting to work on setting up your cot in a spare room. Once the cot is all set up, the two supernatural entities decide to call it a day. You are gently placed into the cot. Then the ineffable husbands crash together on the couch.


	4. Chapter Three

Life went on, and soon you turned six months old. Well, sixth months since the day you were found. Aziraphale and Crowley weren't completely sure how old you were, but they didn't mind. A couple of months earlier, you had learned to hold your head up on your own. Around that time, the angel and demon began feeding you baby food in addition to your bottles. Which is how your tiny family discovered that you don't like mashed up peas, though you quite enjoy peaches and sweet potatoes. Of course by that time you could sit up on your own. Your ineffable fathers were rather excited about that.

Skipping ahead to when you're roughly six months old, you're laying on your play mat. You're on your stomach, head lifted, hands grabbing for a pair of toy keys. You gurgle happily as you grasp the plastic and shake it around. Crowley and Aziraphale are sitting on the couch near you. The demon is playing a game on his phone, while the angel has his glasses on, nearing the end of a novel. You can now distinguish their faces and voices. But as of now, you were focused on those jingly plastic keys. You shake them again and accidentally throw them across the room. You grunt in protest and focus on the colourful keys. With an effort, you manage to sit up. You wanted those oh so tantalizing keys! You babble a bit, leaning forward and moving towards the keys at a moderate pace. Just as you reach the keys, you hear a squeal of shock from the couch and look over. The white haired angel haphazardly bookmarked the page of his novel and put it on the side table. The demon sits up and looks to the astounded angel, "what happened?" he looks to you.

"They-they were crawling!" the angel adjusts his glasses hastily.

"Oh? I missed it!" Crowley exclaimed, disappointed.

"You should have seen them Crowley! They were absolutely splendid!"

"I didn't see them!"

"We established that dear-"

"It didn't happen,"

"What?"

"It doesn't happen 'till I see it angel,"

"Crowley it literally just happened,"

"I don't care if it happened, it didn't until I see it,"

Aziraphale's mouth was agape, "Really Crowley? We aren't doing this right now," the angel knelt down on the floor, motioning for you to come over. "Come on dearest, come to papa." You just stared at him, fitting the tops of the keys into your mouth and chewing with the few teeth you have.

Crowley watched intently, "You sure they didn't just roll over there? Or scoot? They tried a bit of scooting the other day. 'Course they didn't really do well but hey, they gave it their all." Aziraphale rolled his eyes at the demon, "I watched them crawl to those keys!"

The demon snorted, sitting up fully and motioning for you to come over, "C'mon kiddo, wiggle your way over here hm?" Aziraphale furrowed his brows, "I've already tried beckoning them over here, dear,"

You suddenly pieced together that they were calling to you. You held the keys in your mouth and moved your arms and legs again. Within moments you were in the arms of the red haired demon, who was grinning-well-devilishly. "That's pretty nifty, innit?"

The white haired man was absolutely astonished. He leaned over and looked at you, "That simply isn't fair, do you understand y/n?"

"Oh give 'em a break, angel, I'm sure they'll crawl to you tons of times in the future."

"Let's hope so dear." he gently fixed your hair, smiling as you babbled and cooed while Crowley jingled the keys.

Flash forward a month or two later. You're sitting in Aziraphale's lap. Crowley is next to the both of you, an arm casually resting around the angel's shoulders. The three of you are watching a movie while you have a bottle. You finish the bottle and lay down into a more comfortable position. As you watch the flashing colours on the television screen, your eyes begin to droop. You're shifted around, you coo in protest, but it's too late, you're now on Aziraphale's shoulder for your burping. Complaining, a whine escapes your lips. You burp soon enough, but even after you're still fussy. You squirm about, unable to find a comfortable enough position since you were moved. Crowley ruffles your hair a bit, "What's your issue wiggle worm?" Aziraphale boops your nose playfully, "Yes, tell us all about it dearest," You stop whining at the nose touch, but still have a prominent scowl on your face. You babble, expressing your frustration with 'baboo's and 'habee's. Then there's a combination of sounds that startles you, because it caused an uproar of noise from the angel and demon.

"I can't believe they said your name first!" says one.

"I can't either! I think I'm in shock!" says the other.

You quickly gather that this is a positive reaction, and try the combination of sounds again.

"Pa..pa," you muster, earning a pleased squeal from Aziraphale.

"What?! C'mon, y/n! Say dada, go on!" Comes the not-so-desperate plea from Crowley. You stare at him, managing a simple "Paba" which earns a round of giggles from the angel. You laugh joyously at this newfound entertainment. Crowley feigns a sulk nearly all night, until you fall asleep on him. Then he's extremely happy, and doesn't even watch the rest of the movie before he passed out.

Roughly two and a half months later, you're lying awake in your crib. It's late at night, and from what you understand, papa and dada are in a different room. Your night light is on, illuminating a good portion of the room and keeping the monsters at bay. You push yourself into a sitting position. You suck on your binky, using the bars on your crib to pull yourself up. You look around your room, your gaze landing on a stuffed elephant. You reached for it. It was way too far. You let out a loud, "Baba!" causing your binky to fall to the floor. You fell to the floor of your crib, trying to reach the binky through the bars. Unsuccessful, your bottom lip jutted out and you began to cry. A tired Aziraphale came rushing into the room. Tears streaming down your face, you pulled yourself up using the bars once more. "Babee! Babeeeee!" you whined, reaching for the binky over the crib edge. Aziraphale nodded with a yawn, "I've got it dearest, don't worry." He picked up the pacifier and handed it to you casually. You grabbed it and shoved it back into your mouth, your cries ceasing. It took a moment for the angel to realize that you were standing on your own. You had let go of the bars on your crib and were just standing in the center idly. Aziraphale covered his mouth, trying to suppress a squeal of delight. He cleared his throat and composed himself. "Alright dearest, time to get back to bed." He kissed your head and tucked you in before quickly hurrying to Crowley to tell him the good news. The demon was half asleep, so he simply mumbled a, "We'll deal with standin' plants in the mornin' 'Ziraphale, come to bed." So the angel and demon had a nice, several times interrupted sleep. You, however, got no sleep and was cranky for a whole day. But at least you stood up a few times to impress your two fathers.


	5. Chapter Four (Gore Warning)

You grew quicker than either of your fathers expected. Your first birthday was full of tears from Aziraphale. Second birthday was a bit easier on the angel, though he still cried. So here you all were on your third birthday. This year you were helping Aziraphale make your cake, while the demon was wrapping your presents. The cake was white with lovely blue and pink swirls on the edges. Your name was written by the angel in elegant cursive in your favourite colour. You went berserk with the sprinkles on the cake, pouring nearly a whole container on the treat. Aziraphale swiped a bit of icing off of your cheek with a handkerchief, smiling. He bent down to your level, "why don't you go tell daddy to come and sing happy birthday dear? I'm sure he's done wrapping your gifts by now." Nodding, you giggle and jog to the back of the flat, slowing to admire the collection of plants. They were absolutely pristine, and yet you hadn't seen anyone take care of them, spare your papa miracling them a few flowers. You tenderly touched one of the trembling leaves of one of the plants, and it noticeably stilled. Since the concept that plants shouldn't move of their own accord hadn't been drilled into your head, you figured all plants shook from time to time. You pet the leaves soothingly, placing a kiss on the green appendage. Suddenly, your ears tuned into something else going on. Angry shouting, coming from down the hall. The plants visibly tensed and shook. You let go of the leaf and tentatively began to walk towards the shouts. It sounded like Crowley. You reached the doorframe and quietly peeked your head in. A disheveled, angry Crowley is what you see. Plant mister in hand, he's shouting at a small fern.

"I've told you this a million times over! You bloody disappointment!" he sprayed the plant anyways. "This is your last chance. Don't disappoint me!" The door creaked open wider, and you were immediately hit with realization. These plants were shaking from fear. And they were terrified of Crowley. You stepped back, turning your head to gaze at the shivering plants beside you.

"You bloody fucking mistake!" you heard the demon hiss at a plant and pick up the pot. "Why do you have withered leaves? Try harder to impress me, damnit!"

You covered your ears, watching the plants shiver violently around you. You felt wet tears run down your cheeks as you backed away from the room. Crowley flung open the door, fury in his eyes. It scared you. You thought it was directed towards you. Staggering backwards, you fell and landed on your rear end, curling up into a ball a moment later.

"Y/n? For go-sa-somebody's sake, what are you doing up here?" Crowley set the plant down, much to the small forest's relief. He bent down to try and get you out of your curled up state. You recoiled at his touch, scrambling away from him. He felt a pang in his chest as he realized how this all must look to a three year old. His anger simmered away as quickly as it came. "Y/n, I'm not mad at you. S'okay," he cautiously advanced towards you.

You flinched when he tried to touch you again, but didn't move away. "Why you hurt the plants?" came your question in broken english.

Crowley hesitates with his answer, trying to put together a sentence that wouldn't scare you more. "The plants are-uh-not the issue, okay?"

"You scare them, daddy,"

"No! No, they aren't scared, they're just cold!"

You didn't buy that one bit, tears still streamed down your face, "Plants not cold!" Your bottom lip jutted out, your frown growing bigger.

"No, no, c'mon y/n, no crying, okay?" he tried to wipe your tears away with his thumb, but you slapped his hand away. Walking to the stairs, you shot him a glare, "Papa says come down for burday." Then you stomp down the stairs, angry and hurt. Crowley stares for a few moments before standing and going to the potted plant he was yelling at before. It starts violently shaking, as do the surrounding plants. He brings it real close to his face, muttering, "this is your fault," before dropping the pot on the ground, shattering it into a million pieces.

Meanwhile, you're sulking downstairs, while Aziraphale tries to get you back in a happy mood. Crowley comes down the stairs and immediately the angel is interrogating him, "what happened up there, dear? Y/n won't stop pouting!" Crowley mumbled something in response.

"You what?" if either supernatural being had cared, they would've laughed at the irony of that statement coming from Aziraphale.

"I yelled at the plants in front of them! S'not like I did it on purpose, they just heard it by accident,"

"You shouldn't yell at them when they're in the house period, Crowley!"

"I already said I didn't mean to!"

They bickered for a few minutes before you had enough. You stood up and walked between them. You were half their size, and yet you still showed a miniscule amount of intimidation. You slapped Crowley on the leg, then Aziraphale, "shush!"

They stopped and looked down to you. You pointed at Crowley, "stop yelling at plants"

Then, you pointed to Aziraphale, "stop yelling at daddy,"

You then pointed to the cake, "eat cake." Trotting to the table, you pulled a chair out and climbed onto the chair. Since you were a big kid now, you declined a booster seat earlier that day.

Aziraphale bashfully looked to Crowley, "I'm afraid they're right dear, I must apologize for my previous shouting, it was quite ill-mannered of me." Crowley took a moment to respond, "Yeah, uh, apology accepted or whatever, I won't yell at the plants in front of y/n again," but he wanted to yell at the damned things. The angel quickly planted a soft kiss on the demons cheek before maneuvering to the counter. The demon sat down on a chair and spread out lazily, as per usual. You practically bounced in your chair as Aziraphale put the candles on the cake. All the previous shouting seemed to blissfully dissipate as joy engulfed the room. You all sang happy birthday together, and you had the delight of having the first slice of cake. Afterwards, you received five gifts. You couldn't quite figure out the words on one box in particular. It was wrapped in purple paper with sparkly green polka dots. You felt encouraged to open that box first. Aziraphale read the attached tag for you, "from Anathema and Newton," these names aren't familiar to you. "Who?" you inquired, earning a short chuckle from the angel. "A few acquaintances of ours,"

"Met 'em when you were just a little one," the demon piped up.

"Oh. Pretty paper," you observed, being careful with the edges of the paper so you didn't ruin it. You often saw Aziraphale do this anytime there was an occasion where he received a wrapped gift. He'd save the paper for another time where it was needed. You decided to do this too, unwrapping the gift as carefully as you could. After the paper was neatly put aside, you opened the box inside. It was a well-preserved copy of Grimm's Complete Fairy Tales. Next to it was a small card that read 'have your dads read it to you,' in neat handwriting. You looked to Aziraphale for guidance, as you couldn't read a single word in front of you. Aziraphale read the card aloud, getting a bit giddy at the prospect of reading a new set of bedtime stories to you. Crowley watched behind his sunglasses, a small smile on his face as he watched you and Aziraphale chatter excitedly. You reached for another, larger box, this time wrapped in white paper that screamed 'Happy Birthday' in an eye-blindingly gaudy font.

"You can just rip the rest of 'em open, kiddo," said Crowley from your side. You tore open the paper, giggling as you threw the remnants on Crowley and Aziraphale. They laughed a little. You looked inside the box, finding, to your absolute delight, five rag doll animals. Next to the dolls were several sets of crocheted clothing. To the amusement of your fathers, you said hello to each and every one of them. You bid them farewell and placed them back into the box one by one. Next, you went for the smaller box with the same wrapping paper as before. Tearing it open in the same fashion as before, you discovered that this was a small set of children's pop-up books by Eric Carle. You took a few moments to look inside every book, admiring the pop-ups. Afterwards, you put the books back into the box, setting it aside. There were two large gifts left. You scooted over to one, tearing open the paper. It was an overwhelmingly large train set. You circled around the box, in awe of the huge playset. You couldn't wait for later, when you get to test out the set. You were babbling excitedly at the train set, and the angel and demon laughed at your eagerness.

"We can play with it right after you finish opening your gifts, dearest,"

"Yeah, you've still got one more! Go on and open it then,"

You slowly calmed yourself, although internally your heart was going a billion miles an hour. You moved over to the second large box, and, with an effort, pulled off the wrapping paper. You finally stepped back to observe the picture on the box. It was a blue and red trike. You squealed in delight, running over to hug your parents. They hugged back, happy that you were happy.

The day went on into night, and night into evening. You played for hours on end, and when it was finally time for bed, you barely even protested. It was such a wonderful night.

Until it wasn't.

You quite suddenly found yourself in complete darkness, the only light coming from a small symbol on each of your palms. After standing still for approximately 3 minutes, you finally gained the courage to move forward. The floor was rough and ice cold on your bare feet, and you found yourself shivering violently in your pajamas. Step by step, you observed what little you could of your surroundings using your palms. Everything seemed positively gargantuan, but from what you could tell, it was Crowley's flat. If his flat were made for a horde of giants. Perhaps, you considered, you were just shrunk down to ant size. You could see your breath in the light now, and every step you took made you feel heavier. You trekked for what felt like hours in the freezing cold. Your lips turned blue, your breathing was heavy, you felt as if you were carrying bags of rocks. You hoarsely called out for Crowley or Aziraphale. You looked at your shaking hands, your fingers were numb and white. The very tips were turning purple. You stumbled, collapsing as you became too heavy, and your feet too frigid. You curled up defensively, feeling alone in this barren landscape. Your eyes froze shut as tears gathered in your eyes. You let out a final whimper for your parents. All at once, everything became warm. The frozen teardrops melted and fell down your face, and you basked in the sudden warmness. Toasty turned into hot. The world was on fire. Your palms were no longer glowing, but the foreign symbols remained, charred black, deep inside your skin. You sucked in air to scream, but immediately wheezed out thick clouds of ash. You desperately began running, the red hot floor searing your feet. You felt your skin sloughing off and turning to ash on the floor. You couldn't breathe. You smelled a combination of smoke and the coppery scent of blood. You could hear screams through the pounding of your own heartbeat. You felt the bones of the remnants of your feet hit the floor with every frantic step. You tripped over someone, something, a dismembered appendage. Falling face first into the floor, you could feel every nerve in your body scream in pain. In the red floor, you could see your reflection. Your face was burned black, ash covered the bones peeking through your remaining skin. You felt the cake you had earlier rise to your mouth. You puked out blood red goo, and several pink, fleshy organs. Your jaw unhinged and fell onto the floor, turning into black ash. Blood poured from your gaping maw, intestines half out of your mouth. Why weren't you dead yet? Tears stung your eyes, immediately evaporating. You silently begged to go back home, for the pain to stop, for something, anything.

Crowley stopped his light kisses to Aziraphale's neck the instant he felt something amiss. It was almost like a subtle disturbance. He furrowed his brows and sat up, attempting to determine the feeling. At first he thought it was his own emotion. Aziraphale cocked his head at the demon above him, "are you quite alright, dear?" Crowley nearly nodded, planning on giving some kind of simple excuse so he could dismiss the feeling. But then the feeling died down. He could barely sigh in relief before the feeling came back full force. A startled shout came from him as he scrambled off of Aziraphale, falling to the floor and landing on his rear. He felt bile rise up to his throat as panic set in. Aziraphale had hurried over to the pale-faced demon, "Crowley! What's wrong?" Crowley didn't hear him, he was too busy trying to pinpoint the source of the overwhelming waves of fear. It clicked, and he forced himself to stand up. He frantically searched for pants, managing to hastily answer, "Y/n! There's somethin' wrong with y/n!" he pulled on the first pair of pants he found and bolted to your room. He busted open the door to find a fitfully sleeping you. Actually, he wasn't entirely sure that you were sleeping. You're eyes were open, but rolled back. You were clenching and unclenching your fists and your toes were tightly curled. He shook you feverishly, just as Aziraphale bustled into the room, thoroughly frightened.

Your nerves died. You figured that this was the end. You'd die in a ball of

flames, surrounded by countless screaming people. You lay your head down, listening to the sound of your skin crackling in the fire. As you calmed down, you swear you could smell the familiar scent of your home. What a lovely way to go, you figured. You prepared to take your last breath, expecting it to burn and be filled with toxic smoke and ash. Instead, you sucked in air. Your eyes shot open, and the hellish landscape was still there, but you could breathe. You gulped down the oxygen, clutching onto the morphing floor. The fiery surroundings warped and in the fire, you could see a worrisome pair of people. You squinted at them, your lungs working overtime to provide you air. It was your parents, you concluded. But you hadn't seen them in so long! Surely it must've been ages by now! The flames faded out gradually. Then there was the face of Crowley, his eyes completely yellow with the thinnest slit of a pupil imaginable. Worry wracked his features as he searched your eyes. Your head was resting on Aziraphale's lap. You felt warm tears in your eyes. You could still feel the heat of the flames. You looked at your hands, looking for the symbol. It wasn't there. Crowley looked utterly mortified. There was just so much fear. For a short time, he was brought back to when he fell. He'd sensed small nightmares before, it was a sort of muted feeling. It was an easy situation to handle, as well. But this time it felt so surreal. He'd never walked in on you freaking out in such a way. He wondered what you were dreaming about that was so terrifying. Whatever the case, he was happy you were awake again. Both occult beings let out a relieved breath.

"Are you alright, dear?" Aziraphale looked down at you. You tried to answer, but unusually, your throat still burned from the nightmare. So all that came out was a hoarse wheeze. Aziraphale placed a cool hand to your forehead, "Oh my! They're positively feverish!" Crowley got up, "Stay here, I'll get 'em some water," he left the room. Meanwhile, tears streamed down your face, the reality of the dream settling in. You clutched onto Aziraphale tightly, burying your face into his pajama shirt. You quivered, happy to be home, but terrified of whatever just happened to you. You weren't entirely sure how to decipher this particular nightmare from reality. Aziraphale rubbed your back soothingly. "There there, dear, it's alright now. It was just a bad dream, silly things, really," You sniffled and sobbed into the angels shirt, tears soaking into the soft fabric. Crowley returned with a glass of water, sitting next to you and Aziraphale. "Come on dear, buck up and have a drink." With an effort, you pushed yourself up and looked to the glass. You tried to go for holding it, but once Crowley saw your violently trembling hands, he pushed your hands down gently. He held the glass to your mouth and tipped it, allowing you to drink from it at a steady pace. You greedily drank the water, pleased that the burning sensation steadily stopped as you did so. "D'you want to talk about it?" Crowley inquired in an overwhelmingly soft tone that was unlike him. Memories of the dream flashed through your mind, and the tears spilled down your face faster. You shake your head, earning a hug from both the demon and the angel. "Do you think you can get back to sleep?" Aziraphale questions tentatively. Pondering for a moment, wiping tears from your face with your pajama sleeve, you once again shake your head. "D'you wanna sleep with us? We'll turn on a Disney movie, if you'd like," You didn't need much time to think on that, nodding quickly. You were swiftly picked up by Aziraphale, but before you left, you pointed to one of the new rag doll animals. Crowley picks it up and uses it's limp arms to hug you. You crack a smile and hug the doll. They take you to their room, where you all watch Disney movies. That is, until you fall into a much more pleasant sleep, hugging your doll, tucked in between your two favourite people.


	6. Chapter Five

You were abruptly awoken from your slumber by Aziraphale. You grumbled something about not wanting to wake up yet, and pulled the covers over your head. "Come on dearest, it's time to rise and shine," the angel pulled the comforter off of you. You curled up in a ball against the sudden cold of your room. "Pa, I don't wanna," you mumbled, exaggerating the 'wanna'. Crowley peeked his head in, "Well y'gotta. So get up and at 'em sleepyhead!"

Groaning, you quite literally rolled out of bed. Onto the carpet. Aziraphale tutted at you, offering his hands to help you up, "Come on, we really must get going," he gave you a playful sidelong glance, "Why, I doubt we'll have any time at all for breakfast at the rate you're going!" Attention caught, you scrambled to find clothes for yourself. With the assistance of Aziraphale, you pulled on a black and white striped shirt with a lovely pair of red overalls. You had some purple and green zig-zag socks on and a new pair of sneakers. Some might've thought you looked a bit odd, but you've been odd your whole life. You had been lectured before on how things in the flat or bookshop worked a bit differently than out in the real world. You'd have to remind yourself to not pet the plants outside. Scurrying to the kitchen, you see Crowley drinking a cup of coffee at the table. Aziraphale had been absolutely delighted when the demon had taken up his offer. One would expect that Crowley liked his coffee black, but on the contrary, he actually rather enjoyed a bit of milk and sugar with the mixture. Of course, Aziraphale still preferred tea all hours of the day and night, but he had made morning coffee a part of his daily routine. You sat at the table in your get up, earning a "Lookin' sharp, kiddo," from Crowley.

"Thanks daddy!" came your thrilled response. Aziraphale was fixing himself and you a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast, with tea on the side of course. He served the plates and sat down across from you, and next to Crowley. "Did you have any interesting dreams last night, dear?" the angel asked before he took his first bite. You were already digging into the eggs and bacon, which you liked to mix together. "Mm, no. Oh, wait! I saw a kitty-cat! It was so pretty and it had lovely black fur with a big stripe on its face!" you fondly recalled the memory as you took a bite of the bacon-egg mixture. In the past two years, you have had very vivid dreams. It's rare that you don't dream. Some are like the one you had when you were three, others are a bit spooky. Most of the time, if you're happy during the day, your sleep is happy too. "Sounds like a splendid dream, y/n," the angel said politely, going in for another bite.

"We aren't gettin' a cat though," Crowley said as he played a game on his phone. You shrugged, figuring that you didn't need a cat anyways. You finished your breakfast shortly before Aziraphale, and thanked him for the meal. Then, you went to double check that your school bag was packed and ready to go. Aziraphale fixed you a healthy and fulfilling lunch and gave it to you. "Crowley, would you be a dear and drive y/n to school while I go open the bookshop?" the angel asked as he adjusted your hair. Crowley snorted, "Angel, do you honestly think I'd be up at eight in the morning if I wasn't gonna drive them to school?"

"You bring me to the bookshop at seven sometimes,"

"Cause I can and I didn't have anything better to do,"

"It's very kind of you to do so, dear,"

"I'm not kind, angel," You started pulling Crowley out the door.

"Beautiful and kind,"

"Liar!" was the last word Crowley got out before Aziraphale waved and chirped a "Toodle-oo!" as the door closed.

The ride to school was filled with Crowley cracking jokes and you making jokes back. His were obviously funnier, but you didn't mind, you were learning, after all. He screeched to a halt right outside of office doors, "Remember your class number?" he asked, to which you vigorously nodded. He ruffled your hair, "Right then, go get 'em," You nodded and hopped out of the door. The demon peeked his head out of the window and said, "Be good. But not too good!" before speeding off. You giggled a bit at that and walked into the school. As you wandered into your classroom, you admired the fresh sights, smells, and sounds. The teacher greeted you and gave you a few friendly instructions. You neatly put your lunchbag into your cubby and sat at a desk near the front of the room. There were already a couple of children sitting at desks, most of them chatting with each other. You weren't sure you could make friends so easily, but you weren't opposed to trying. Scanning the room, you found a kid sitting alone three seats behind you. You scooted off of your seat and made your way over to the stranger, practicing your greeting. "Hi, how're you? You look a tad lonely!" You offered your hand for a shake. The child looked to you, confusion riddling their features. They quietly piped up, "Um, I'm okay," they took your hand and shook it. That was a good start, you figured as you sat on the floor next to them, sitting with your legs crossed. "My name's y/n, what about you?"

"Austin," they said, their attention finally caught. You switched seats so you could sit next to them for the day. You discovered that Austin is a boy, and goes by 'him.' You had never been raised with any specific pronoun, so this took a bit of time to get used to. Austin had strawberry blonde hair and hazel eyes with a bit of a green center. His pale face was dotted with freckles, as well as his neck and, presumably, the rest of his body. The teacher went over the rules and procedures, but you and Austin barely listened. You were busy giggling and doodling on eachothers student handbooks. You two only got reprimanded once before lunch, which you considered a win. Austin didn't bring lunch, so you shared yours with him. He was astonished at how much food fit into your lunchbag, and how it, by some miracle, was still fresh and in pristine condition. When he asked, you shrugged, "Dunno, magic maybe," and shoved a strawberry in your mouth. Austin didn't complain and ate his share of the food slowly, thanking you politely. You finished before your new friend, and stood up, throwing your trash in the bin outside. "I've got to wash up, I'll see you in a bit Austin," you waved a temporary goodbye and scurried off to a family restroom. You should have been caught for going into a non-student bathroom, but no-one batted an eye. But you didn't know any better anyways. There was a tall sink and a short sink, but even the short sink was a bit too big for you. You ended up climbing onto the sink and washing your face and hands. You wiped your hands on your overalls and fixed your hair in the mirror before hopping down. Finally cleansed, you made your way out of the bathroom. Before you could get two steps out of the door, however, you bumped into a large, brooding figure. There was an odd stillness in the air as you stumbled back, apologizing. The figure held up it's hand as a means to dismiss your apology. A wide, false smile adorned it's face as it said a even-toned, "Hello, y/n."


	7. Chapter Six

Your gaze trailed up to the figure's face. It was a man, you concluded. He was wearing a grey coat, grey turtleneck, grey pants! Even the man's brown hair was greying! Contrasting the monotonous pallet was his bright purple eyes. "Hello, y/n," the man said. You look around you, as if there was some other y/n in the empty restroom. Focusing your attention to the man, you furrowed your brows, visibly confused "Hi?" The man reached down and touched your shoulder, "I want you to come with me," then he walked away, expecting you to follow. You looked out into the hall. Everything was frozen. You hesitantly walked up to a teacher. He was in a constant bored pose, phone in hand. The man observed you from afar as you touched the teachers arm gently. "Hello?" you whispered, turning to look behind you at all of the paused children. You wondered if this was just another strange dream. You looked back to the man, and knew that he must be responsible for this. Nervously stepping away from the teacher, you walked to the strange man. "What's your name, sir?" You asked the man as you both started walking, you walking a bit faster to keep up. "Gabriel," you nodded, committing it to memory. "Why um," you look behind you to the frozen people, "Why did you freeze everyone?" Gabriel glanced towards you, "Clever thing, aren't you? Well, the humans would've gotten in the way, and I needed to speak to you privately." You found yourself fidgeting with your fingers as the intimidating man spoke, "Am I in trouble?" Gabriel thought for a moment, "No, of course not!" he forced a laugh. He sat at a table in the schoolyard and gestured for you to sit across from him. As you sat, a glass of dark red liquid appeared in front of you. It smelled like bitter fruit, and you wrinkled your nose. You weren't feeling very thirsty.

"I just came to ask you a couple of questions," the man explained, observing that you didn't take surprise to the miracled wine. You nodded, "Okay," and stuffed your hands in the pockets of your overalls.

"Have you ever noticed anything strange occurring in your family?" You thought on that for a second, pursing your lips, "Nope! It's pretty normal at home." Gabriel feigns a smile, "Specifically things appearing out of nowhere, or perhaps inanimate objects moving around?" You recall your parents telling you about the differences between home and outside.

"Well, the plants wiggle sometimes, but that's really it," you don't mention the tons of times you've played with moving dolls that were bound to the will of your fathers. Your reply was extremely vague. So vague in fact, that you could have been talking about the wind. Gabriel tapped his fingers on the table, "Perhaps you've had some dreams that seem a little too real?" A flashback to burning flames and searing skin. "Sometimes," you admit quietly. "Your parents, do they ever show any qualities that indicate that they may have supernatural powers?" You open your mouth and close it again. An uneasy feeling settled in your gut. "No, not that I can think of."

"Are you positive? You know, if you're lying to me, you'll get in big trouble." You swallowed nervously. You didn't want to get in trouble with him. But what if telling him got your fathers in trouble? You tried to keep your answer vague, "The only thing I can think of is daddy's eyes, they're kind of odd. But I don't think that's 'supernatural,'" There! perhaps that would ease the man, it wasn't really saying anything important, you figured. Gabriel nodded, that fake smile still plastered on his face. "May I see your hands, y/n?" He held out his hands, waiting. You were hesitant. The thought of touching him made you want to cringe and run away. However, you remained as calm as you could, though your brows were pulled together in anxiety and worry. "It's alright, I just want to check something." You took a deep breath in and held it as you gingerly placed your small hands in his.

"This may sting a bit,"

"Wait wh-OW"

He pressed his thumbs into your palms, and they began to glow in a similar fashion to that of your dreams. You felt your breathing quicken as the familiar symbol formed itself into your palm. It burned. You felt bile rise to your throat and you yanked your hands away. The glow abruptly stopped and your palm returned to normal, although it was a bit red. Gabriel didn't even flinch. He just stood and stared down at you menacingly. "I-I'm done now!" you squeaked, holding your hands close to your chest and backing away. Gabriel smile returns and he stuffs his hands into his pockets, "That's alright, I've gotten all I need to know," You defensively back up some more, trying to put a decent amount of distance between the two of you. "I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about our meeting today, kiddo. Or else." You nodded your head hastily, unsure of what you are agreeing to. He snaps his fingers and time resumes. Simultaneously, he disappears. You are shaking from the encounter and look at your hands. With a start, you realize that you're bleeding. A few droplets form a stream down your fingertips and onto the grass below. You are standing there in a daze when Austin comes up to you. "Y/n? Are you alright? When did you get out here? I must've missed you walking over here," he noticed the blood dropping slowly to the grass, "Jeez, what happened?" You look at him, tears welling in your eyes, "I'm fine, I," you realized you couldn't tell him, which brought the tears over the edge, "I...don't know what happened." He put a gentle arm around your shoulder, "Come on, let's go find a teacher," He starts leading you away, yet you're unable to tear your eyes away from the table. You couldn't separate your dreams from your reality at the moment. Is everything just one, huge dream? Maybe you'd wake up at home, and this day could just restart. Would that be better than this? You tore your gaze away from the table, focusing your attention to the teacher in front of you. Austin is explaining the situation, but you can't hear a word he's saying. It's all garbled in your ears. You stared blankly at the teacher. Austin shook you a little, "Y/n? Did you hear what she said?" You snapped back into the present, "Oh, oh! No ma'am, M'sorry," She gave you a sympathetic smile, "That's alright, dear, I gave Austin here directions to the nurse's office, and both of you are excused from class until you're as right as rain." Austin nodded, thanking the woman and guiding you to the nurse. Once you both arrived, the nurse happily fixed you up, wiping your hands clean and putting bandaids on the cuts. The cuts weren't too deep, but they resembled the symbol. You were glad they were covered. Austin continued questioning you, but you insisted that it was just a scrape. At the end of the day, you said a weary goodbye to your new friend. You don't think you've ever been happier to see the Bentley awaiting you. Opening the car door, you hopped into the backseat and buckled up. "How was school?" Crowley asked, a grin on his face. "Y'know, I never really understood it myself, but your pa insisted..." he trailed off, seeing your expression in the rearview mirror. Even though his vision was tinted through the sunglasses, he could still identify a solemn attitude. If not for the fact that sadness, guilt, a range of other negative emotions practically oozing off of you in waves, then for the red around your eyes where you had been crying. Or maybe it was the smile you tried to put on your face as a façade. "What's up kiddo?"

A momentary flashback, 'I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about our meeting today, kiddo. Or else,' a sick feeling rose to your throat. Tears once again welled up in your eyes, "Please don't call me that anymore," came your choked whisper. Crowley's brows furrowed, nodding, "Alright, I won't, c'mon, let's get you to the bookshop," He sped to the bookshop quicker than usual. He stopped the car and came around to your door, opening it for you. You got out and walked past him, opening the door of the bookshop. Crowley came in behind you, locking eyes with Aziraphale immediately. The angel took your school bag and offered you a seat next to him on the couch. He took off his reading glasses and put away his novel, rubbing your back soothingly. Crowley comes and sits on the other side of you, ruffling your hair a little. "What happened, dearest?" the angel asked in a non-confrontational way. You shake your head, looking away from them both, your face guilt-stricken. The angel looked to the demon, a concerned and questioning look. The demon gave back an equally concerned and confused look. Aziraphale eyed your bandaids, "Did someone..hurt..you?" You felt tears run down your cheeks. Crowley tensed up, "Did someone hurt you?" he seemed like he was prepared to beat someone up. You didn't give any indication that you had heard either than them except your soft weeping. Aziraphale gently took your hands into his, "Here, let me help," you instinctively yanked your hands away, causing the angel to gasp. You paused, breathing out and replacing your hands in the palms of your father. "It'll be quick, dear." He miracled the bandaids away and froze when he saw the barely etched symbol. "Oh my good lord," he mumbled as he inspected it. Crowley peeked over your shoulder and narrowed his eyes, hissing angrily. He wanted to make you tell him who hurt you so he could kick their ass. Aziraphale waved away the unfinished symbol, healing the wounds. You flexed your fingers when he was finished, happy to be rid of it. Aziraphale didn't let go of your hands, but held them softly. "Dearest, I know you don't want to talk about it, but it is imperative that we know how this happened," he tried to reason. You wanted to. Oh how you wanted to tell them everything. But what if that hurt them somehow? You don't want them to be hurt. "You don't have to speak, you can draw it if you want," that idea eased your conscious a bit. You technically weren't telling anyone about what happened. You were just drawing it. Aziraphale miracled a box of crayons and a few sheets of paper. You quietly drew, sitting on the floor and using the coffee table to rest your paper on. A fake smiling figure, thumbs pressing into your palms, glowing, burning, Austin helping you. It took you nearly an hour, but you drew. With every line, anger in the room increased. Crowley and Aziraphale were absolutely furious. Aziraphale was nearly completely foreign to these emotions. It took every ounce of Crowley's power to keep a straight face. It was obvious to them. Grey suit, grey pants, brown hair with purple eyes. There wasn't a shred of doubt in either of your father's minds that you were drawing Gabriel. The resemblance was uncanny. You finally finished, neatly packaging your crayons and returning to your place on the couch. You felt better about the situation, having let yourself vent a bit. Catching sight of their change in attitude, you looked away again, guilt consuming you. "I'm sorry,"

Aziraphale's face softened instantly, "You've got absolutely nothing to be sorry for, dear," Crowley nodded in agreement,"N' trust me, he'll be paying' for this." You perked up a bit at that. "How about I fix us some tea and we watch a couple of movies?" the angel asked, attempting to lighten the mood. You nodded, "Yes please," and hopped off the couch. Crowley stretched out on the couch, pursing his lips as he thought about how best to deal with this situation. You followed the angel into the kitchen, helping him, as you often did. The three of you watched three movies before supper and bed. Aziraphale read you a lovely bedtime story, Crowley sang you a lullaby, then you drifted off. You had unpleasant dreams of grey suits and cold rooms. Big purple eyes stared at you through every window. Through it all, you sat in the center of a large white room. The eyes would blink and the words Gabriel had said earlier repeated over and over. It echoed throughout the room loudly, causing your eardrums to pound and eventually rupture. You laid on the floor and watched the eyes enjoy your suffering. The symbol was everywhere, and it kept spreading. Soon, you and the room were covered in this foreign symbol. It seared your skin and ached. This is just another dream to remember.


	8. Chapter Seven

The week passed by relatively quickly, and you managed to forget the Gabriel incident for a while. Crowley made a valiant effort to not call you 'kiddo'. Your fathers were still rather angry about the archangels actions. However much they wanted to seek out Gabriel, they knew it would be best to leave it be. Or wait until Gabriel comes to them, whatever happens first. In the meantime, it was Saturday, and your parents decided to take you for an impromptu day out to the store. You had a rough week, after all. Recently, you've had an absurd obsession with dinosaurs. So, you'd definitely be pampered with a couple of new dinosaur toys. Perhaps some new clothes as well. Crowley helps you dress, and Aziraphale fixes snacks for the trip. Once everyone's ready, Crowley drives you all to the nearest ASDA. Not the most luxurious store, but neither you nor your parents cared. As soon as you were out of the car, you hopped to the door, waiting for your parents. You fantasized about the brand new toys you would get, and the grin on your face grew wider, "C'mon, c'mon!" you motioned for Crowley and Aziraphale to hurry along. The doors opened and you, holding Aziraphale's hand, immediately darted for the toy section. Aziraphale followed-er-was more dragged along than anything. Crowley went off to fetch a few groceries and snacks. "Pick anything you'd like, dear," the angel spoke, relieved to be in control of his personal walking pace. Scanning the shelves, your eyes landed on a dinosaur figure with "chompin' action," and fell in love. The dinosaur looked cool, as well. Additionally, it was pretty cheap, although your parents wouldn't have cared either way. You struggled to reach it, but declined help from your father. You wanted to reach it on your own. As soon as you started climbing up to the fourth shelf, Aziraphale panicked. However, you were already there, grabbing the toy and leaping into the angel's open arms. He looked bewildered, exhaling a breath of relief, "Please don't do that again, that was rather unnecessary, dearest." You shrugged, "Okay!" and once you were put down, you were delighted to discover that the toy dinosaur also roared. As you happily fantasized about the potential playtime between the dino and your other toys, you walked down the aisle. You weren't really watching where you were going, and ran into someone, knocking the both of you down. Scrambling to get up and assist the person, you apologized, "I'm terribly sorry! Are you alri-Austin!" Meanwhile, Aziraphale is watching the interaction, admiring the way your speech was influenced by both himself and Crowley. You helped Austin up, who gave you a grin and a "Hi y/n! It's okay, I'm not hurt." A quick look around revealed that Austin was not with his parents. "Where's your parents?" A nanosecond of hesitation before he answered, shrugging, "Oh, they're around," He gestured to the store. "Oh." you were still a tad puzzled. Austin changed the topic, "What'cha got?"

"Oh! It's a dinosaur!" you held up the figure, mimicking a 'roar' in his direction. He giggled a little, "We should play together one day! I've got a bunch of dinosaur figures at home!" This made you nod excitedly, "Yes! Can we Papa?" you looked to Aziraphale, who smiled wider than he already was. "I'd have to ask your dad, but I don't see any issue with it," You and Austin grinned at each other, "Let's do it on Monday, by then my parents will be able to contact yours," Austin says. "Just call the A.Z. Fell bookshop, dear boy,"

Austin nods, and after all is arranged, you bid your farewells and part ways. You and Aziraphale make your way to Crowley, who is comparing different spaghetti sauces. He screws up his nose and looks to the both of you, "You both smell weird," then he chucks a can into the cart and puts the other on the shelf. Afterwards, the three of you head to the clothing section and pick out some lovely dinosaur outfits. Including a new pair of pajamas that would definitely be your favourite. You all checked out, shoved the items in the Bentley, and drove to the flat.

It was nearing the late afternoon-early evening by the time you arrived. Your toy was unpackaged, dinosaur books were put on your shelf, and rag dolls were retrieved from your room. Crowley sat on the floor with you whilst Aziraphale prepared dinner. The red haired demons glasses were off for once, showing off his eyes. A mischievous grin spread across his face, "Ya ready? Who'm I gonna be?" You tapped your chin, then pointed to the badger doll. It was old, but still looked good as new. Crowley cracks his knuckles, "Okay, here we go," just as suddenly as the sentence ended, the rag doll stood straight up. You giggled, watching the display you've seen a million times before. The doll, of its own accord, sashays over to the dinosaur. You direct a roar to the badger. "Oh my! You scared me!" says Crowley in a feminine voice as the badger moves as if it's talking. You bring your voice as low as it can go, moving the dinosaur slightly, "Oh sorry, I didn't mean to spook you,"

"It's quite alright!" says the badger.

"D'you want to go for a spot of tea? I know a good place!" says the dinosaur, crouching to meet the badgers height.

"That sounds positively wonderful, let's go," the badger climbs onto the dinosaur.

And of course, they go out to the Ritz for tea. It's quite lovely, there's muffins!

"That was quite lovely," says the badger.

"I still can't reach my muffin," the dinosaur laments, it's tiny arms wiggling.

"Let me help you," the badger lifts the muffin to the dinosaurs mouth.

"Oh, thank you so-" your playtime is interrupted by a certain angel calling you and Crowley to the table.

Crowley taps your nose, "It's time for you to eat some real food, and hopefully you'll be able to reach it," the badger collapses. You set the dinosaur down next to the badger and smile as you get up. Crowley swings you off your feet suddenly and throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You squeal, giggling furiously, "Daddy, put me down! I'm hungryyyyy!" You're sat down in your chair, and you take a moment to calm down. Crowley puts his hands up in defense, "I'm done, I'm done, I am totally done,"

"He's not done," says Aziraphale, sipping his cocoa. Crowley nods as a confirmation. "Go on and dig in dear," Aziraphale gestures to the cut chicken and vegetables on your plate. You eat the vegetables first as your fathers chat idly. You take a bite out of a piece of chicken, and put your fork down. Suddenly, you're not hungry anymore. Staring at the chicken, an uneasy feeling settles to the pit of your stomach. Aziraphale touches your shoulder gently, and you realize you've been asked a question. "What?" you look up abruptly. Aziraphale tries to smile through his worry, "I asked if you were alright, dearest."

You nod, but hop down from your chair anyways. Feeling woozy and wobbly, you maneuver yourself to the bathroom. You aren't sure if someone's following you, but you don't really care. You lift the toilet lid and you throw up your dinner. Except it's not your dinner. It's crimson and thick. There's chunks of meat in the concoction as well as pieces of bone. You stare for a moment before hurling again, but all that comes out is bile and a single, still alive fly. You try to regain focus as you try to ignore the mixture in the bowl. A noise somewhere between a sickly groan and a moan of disgust comes out of your mouth. You slump back and blink a few times. You look back into the bowl, and it's perfectly normal food once more. Albeit it's chewed up and slightly digested. There's no blood or bones. Aziraphale comes and wipes off your still mortified face. You don't cry, you just let it happen. "Oh dear, that chicken must've gone off," he said it, though he was sure he had bought that chicken just today. It tasted alright to him, after all. Crowley stood, leaning against the doorframe, "Jeez, you alright y/n?" You nod, walking past them and into your room. Sinking onto your bed, you lay your head on the pillow. Your parents were following you the whole time, a bit confused at the behavior. Of course you've thrown up before, but you looked like you had seen a ghost. Crowley checked your temperature, gave you medicine, and fetched you a glass of water. Aziraphale read you a new dinosaur story while you tried to sleep. The angel kissed your forehead and the demon ruffled your hair gently before they parted ways. Before you go to sleep, you wonder vaguely why you, a five year old, deal with these hallucinations and dreams. You wonder if other kids your age see bloody vomit instead of the real thing. That is your last thought before you drift away.


	9. Chapter Eight

You are walking down a long hallway. Plants loom over you, shaking violently. Distant voices are whispering, engaged in their own conversation. The voices never seem to get closer. You reach the end of the hallway, where a tall door resides. You knock hesitantly and the whispers abruptly cease. Everything is still for a few moments, then the door opens of its own accord. Bright light illuminates the doorway. You step inside, trying to remain calm. The only thing in the room is a sole desk and chair. Carefully, you walk towards it. To your dismay, Gabriel is sitting in the chair. He leans forward, placing his hands on the desk, "I've been expecting you, kiddo." You hide your cringe, mustering up the courage to ask a quiet, "Why?"

Gabriel's lips formed a slight frown, "Someone is going to introduce themselves to you soon. Your job is to ignore them."

"Ignore them? Wha-"

"Don't ask questions, just do as I say. Trust me, you don't want to get involved with this...entity,"

You highly doubted this new person could be nearly as bad as Gabriel. Despite this, you nodded silently. He waved you away, "That's all, bye kiddo, and remember!" He placed his finger to his lips and made a 'shh' noise. You looked at him blankly, then turned to walk back into the hallway. Of course that's when you woke up. It was Sunday. Otherwise known as the day that Austin would come over to the bookshop for a bit of a playdate. You kicked the covers off of yourself and left your bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. The first thing you noticed when you walked into the kitchen was that Aziraphale wasn't there, but Crowley. He was making breakfast, pink apron and all. He turned his head to look at you, grinned and said, "G'morning sleepy head," then flipped a pancake. Not what you were expecting to see this morning, but you weren't complaining. "Morning," You murmured as you sat at the table and rested your chin on your arms, still struggling to wake up fully. He places a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of you. After he turns off the stove he pours himself a cup of coffee, and you a cup of milk. He unties the apron and sits down, pushing the milk to you. You smile and begin eating once he sits. "Have any wacky dreams last night?" he inquires as he takes a sip of coffee. You feign a thinking face, mouth full of food, "Mo, mot reway." Crowley raises a brow. You hold your hand up, chewing and swallowing before finally clarifying, "I said no, not really," Crowley sits back in his chair, comfortable as always. He takes a long sip of his coffee before giving you a knowing look, "You know I can tell when you're lying, right?" You thought back to the dozens of times you seemed to have him fooled, and had to doubt that. Whatever the case, he saw through your façade this time. You sighed, not really wanting to have this conversation at the moment, so you came up with a hopefully believable lie. "It was just a couple of spiders crawling on me, honest." you said, going for another bite of your pancakes. He pursed his lips, one brow quirked, "Was it Gabriel?" You shake your head, "No. I told you, it was spiders."

"What'd he say? What'd he do?" he's getting worked up. "Did he hurt you?"

"No, Daddy! It was just-" you take a breath, "He told me someone was going to...'introduce themselves,' to me soon." You signed the air quotes accordingly. "Whatever that means," you mumbled, picking at a piece of bacon. Crowley thought on that for a second, mouth in a thin line. He sipped his coffee, propping his feet up on another chair, an act that Aziraphale, if he were here, would have scolded. He clicked his tongue as he thought, eyes completely yellow with slight slits for pupils. "M'thinkin' I might know who it'll be," he takes another drink of his coffee, "Maybe." He's silent for a few moments as you finish up your pancakes, "I might have to supervise that playdate of yours," Your brows furrowed, and you opened your mouth to protest. But you closed it right after, understanding that this was for your own protection. So you swallowed your protests and chased them down with milk. After breakfast is finished, you get dressed in appropriate playdate attire. In this case, it's a random long sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans. After both you and Crowley are set, you head off to the bookshop.

Aziraphale was assisting a customer once you arrived. While Crowley maneuvered to the couch and sprawled out, you walked over to the counter and stood on your tippee-toes. You could just barely see over the counter. Aziraphale gave you a small smile, but turned his attention back to the man purchasing a book. He seemed to be interested in a very well kept book of fairy tales from the late 1800's. The man was a bit upset about the price, and Aziraphale was calmly explaining that first edition books are expensive. Which, frankly, should've been obvious. You knew the book well, as Aziraphale had read the stories to you many times over the years. With that being said, you knew that the book was well worth the eighty-one pounds it was being sold for. The man was beginning to get frustrated, his voice raising a little. Crowley's attention was caught, and he was just about ready to chew out the customer. But before he had the chance to get up and walk over, you gently grabbed the man's wrist. It was as if your hand acted of its own accord. "Are you going to buy the book?" came your voice, amplified by the dead silence in the shop. All the man's anger and tension seeped from his body as he stared at you. "It really is a great book, you know, and it's worth the price," You weren't completely aware of your actions. You were just doing what felt right. The man furrowed his brows a little, as if taking in the words you just spoke. "You were being a bit rude, too. Kind of unnecessary, if you ask me. You know you should say sorry, right?" the man nods a little. "And," you let go of his wrist and walked across the bookshop, pulling out a book of nursery rhymes. "You should get this one too, it's a good read and I know your children would like it," you placed the book in the man's hands. He nodded, blinking and taking a breath, turning to the stunned angel, "You know, I was acting like an arse just now, and I apologize," he puts the books down on the counter, "I'll take both of these, sorry for the trouble." he pays, takes his books, and leaves. Crowley and Aziraphale are staring at you, mouths slightly agape. "What the hell was that?!" Crowley exclaims. You shrug, "He was being mean, so-"

Aziraphale cuts you off, "We mean the-...er...the um...oh dear, I'm not quite sure what to call it. It wasn't exactly tempting," Crowley interjects, "Wasn't exactly being kind either, y'know. I sensed a lot of underlying tones of persuasion," Aziraphale nods, "A small hint of malice, maybe?"

"I wouldn't call it malice-"

"Hey, I'm still here!" you pout, crossing your arms loosely. To be frank, you wished they would talk about you when you weren't present. Aziraphale straightened his clothes a smidge before offering you a smile, "Right dear, thank you for your help just then," Crowley snorts and returns to his spot on the couch. You stand on your tippee toes to see over the counter, "May I have a juicebox?"

"Of course, dear," he miracles a juicebox into existence. "Be careful not to spill any on the books now," he reminds you as he begins organizing books. You bust a hole through the top of the juicebox with a straw and make your way over to the couch where Crowley sat. You sat next to him and leaned against his arm, watching him play a game. As you sip your juice, you can't help but let your mind wander. Why had they acted so strangely towards your actions? Did you do something odd? You hadn't even realized that you were convincing the man to buy two books until it was over with. The demon exhales through his nose and turns off his phone, turning his body to face you. "Alright, what's the matter?" You shrug, a bit hesitant to speak your mind, "Was...I wrong to talk to that man?" Crowley purses his lips, leaning back into his comfortable position, "Nah I think you did pretty alright, actually." You can't help the tiny grin that spreads across your face. With it came relief, "D'you mean it?" The corners of Crowley's mouth tug upwards, "Course I do, pumpkin-head," he ruffles your hair and turns his phone back on. That had made your whole day! You slide off the couch and go pick out a book from the stack of children's books in the corner of the shop. It was the only stack of children's books from this century. You had read them all at least twenty times. After so long of Aziraphale reading them to you, you picked up on the words. Once you picked a book, you meandered back to the couch. You had only gotten halfway through before the front door chimed, signaling that someone had arrived. Austin carefully closed the door behind him and waved. Setting your book down, you grinned, "Hello Austin!" you quickly walked over to him. "Hey Y/n, I've brought some toys from home so we can play! Did you bring any?" The two of you practically bounced over to the carpet and sat down. You dragged your small bag of toys over, "Yeah! I brought tons of stuff, but Papa says we've got to tidy up after we're done playing," Austin only nodded in response. Aziraphale and Crowley watched as you two got into the swing of playing, coming up with ideas of fictional worlds and such. You were just talking about how cool a war between animals and people would be, when Austin interrupted you. "What if we pretended we were fake creatures?" he moved his action figures out of the way. "Like…mythology creatures!"

"Mythological creatures?" came your question.

"Yeah!" Austin grinned.

"Oh! That does sound fun! We could be centaurs, fairies, or maybe pegasuses-"

"I was thinking about angels and demons, maybe?" Austin interjects.

You look to your fathers, where only one is actually paying attention to the conversation. Aziraphale was busy cleaning the books. Crowley was pretending that he wasn't listening. You look back to Austin and not-so-confidently say, "Alright, I guess," which makes Austin clap his hands in excitement. "Alright so, which do you want to be?" You don't know how to answer that question. "I'm not really sure, you can choose first! I'll be whatever you aren't,"

"Oh, but I think you should get first pick, it's not like it's a huge decision anyways!"

"I-um..I can't decide, really. Can't I be both?"

"No, silly! There's no such thing as a half demon-half angel!"

"Well, we're playing pretend, so can't we be whatever we want? If that's the case, I'd rather be a unicorn."

"Hmm..I guess that's okay. I'll be an angel then, and you get to be my unicorn friend,"

You smile, glad to have the conflicting bit of the playdate over. Plus, you got to be a unicorn! You two ran about the bookshop, careful to not knock anything over as you went on wild adventures. With the two of you working as a team, you managed to save the prince from an evil dragon. Your efforts were rewarded with apple slices and cookies, courtesy of Aziraphale. At about a quarter past 4-o-clock, a car pulled up in front of the bookshop and honked. Austin hastily shoved all his toys in his bag, in addition to the Ziploc bag of cookies Aziraphale had given him. Then, he was out of the bookshop. You were tuckered out and ready to head home. Aziraphale closed up shop and the three of you headed home. As soon as you walked into the flat, you were disgusted to see hundreds of flies milling about the entrance. You scowled as your parents walked through the flies as if they hadn't even noticed them. "You alright, y/n?" Crowley asked. You snapped back into reality, revealing that there never were any flies. You nodded, "Yeah, thought I saw something for a second." Crowley motioned for you to go to the kitchen, "Papa's fixin' up dinner, so go ahead and sit down at the table,"

"Don't forget to wash up!" said Aziraphale as he took ingredients out of the fridge. You smiled a bit, trying to bring yourself to giggle a little. But you couldn't. You had this unbearable sinking feeling that you had done something horribly wrong.


	10. Chapter Nine

Weeks passed by, and Gabriel still hadn't shown. You were actually nightmare free for a couple of months. Flies would routinely cloud your vision, but that seemed to be a minor setback. You were a remarkably happy child for those months. Uninterrupted dinners, enjoyable school days, two happy parents at home. You should've known something so lovely couldn't last very long. One chilly October night, as you washed up after dinner, you could see something move in the corner of your eye. Of course you looked over, but nothing was there. You shrugged it off as nothing, dried your hands, and went to change into your pajamas. You chose a rather comfortable sleeping gown that would keep you warm under the covers. As per routine, Aziraphale read you a bedtime story. Your fathers had noticed your positive change in behavior. They often discussed it, and would talk about how things may be taking a turn for the better. Aziraphale figured that perhaps they were over-reacting before, but Crowley strongly disagreed. This night would prove Crowley's stubborn intuition correct.

As you drifted away into blissful sleep, you smiled. Your troubles seemed to be over. Instead of the recent dreams of flying, playing, or spending time with people you love, you were plunged into an all-too-familiar setting. Plants shaking with terror as you stood, befounded. Distant voices spoke in hushed tones, _'They're back! The child has returned! They're in for a shock! Oooh a troublemaker!'_ You tried not to panic. This couldn't be happening. You thought you were done. After God-knows how long, you slowly walked into the hallway of plants. They quaked in fear for you, urging you to turn around, to wake yourself up, something. You arrived at the door. It was slightly ajar, and you could hardly bring yourself to push it open further. But you disobeyed your instincts, which were telling you to run. The door opened painfully slow. It was the all white, empty room once more. And there was Gabriel, sitting in the dead center, hands resting on the desk. You shuffled to the front of the desk, avoiding his gaze by staring at his tie. "Y/n, I want you to look me in the eyes," You hesitantly did, biting the inside of your cheek. You were met with bright purple eyes. He was smiling, but nothing on his face conveyed happiness. In fact, he was glaring at you.

"Do you have any recollection of our last encounter?" His voice was hard, composed.

You nod.

"What did I say back then?"

"To ignore the new person that would show up in my life?"

"Yes. Now, do you think you've done a good job at that task?"

You bite your lip, looking away for a second before nodding, "Yes."

Gabriel grins wider, and you feel a surge of hope. "Excellent, well, I'd like to show you something that I think you'll like."

Maybe he really was pleased with your behavior. You were worked up for nothing. You felt your heartbeat slow down as you relaxed a little. The room warped and swayed until it formed an equally as white room, except for one small, teeny-tiny change. Now, instead of a desk and chair in the room, there was a small chair and table. It would've been fine, had it just been that. What got your heart racing once more was the leather straps attached to the chair. A pang of absolute terror caused you to back up and turn around, in search of the door. It had vanished. You turned back around, searching for some kind of exit, and bumped into Gabriel. He gripped you by the collar of your nightgown and forced you into the chair, strapping you in without haste. Your fragile arms strained against the straps as you squirmed. He strapped in your legs, tightening them against the chair, he spoke, "You know, I figured that I wouldn't have to take extreme measures such as this." He finished tightening the straps and stepped back. Making his way over to the table, a towel appeared in his hands, "However," he dunked the towel into a bowl containing some sort of liquid.

"We can't have you thinking that you've done what I asked correctly."

You shake your head, not knowing what was coming, but still frightened, "Please, I-I did my best,"

A frown as he approached, looking down at you, "You didn't ignore a single thing, you made no effort to prevent the buzzing annoyance that is Lord Beelzebub from invading your life," It was now that you realized you had been crying. You didn't understand what you could've done differently. "Therefore, you didn't do your best, and you have to be punished for your incompetence." You hyperventilate as he comes closer with the towel. He places it near your face, "I'm going to show you just how badly you've fucked up,"

You grip the chair as the cold substance touches your cheek, dribbling down your neck and into your nightgown. It's cold at first, but within seconds it feels like fire has embedded itself into your skin. You scream, but Gabriel covers your mouth with his hand, which is also covered in the substance. It sinks into the soft flesh of your lips, and some makes it into your mouth. Your muffled screams are drowned out by Gabriel, now holding the rag to your shoulder. He speaks loudly, ensuring that you can hear him, "Holy water. Just a few months ago you were completely fine with ingesting this substance. I forced you to drink it in that first week, and you had zero problems with it. And now look at you." You gurgled something as the blood from your burned lips went down your throat. "You're lucky you haven't fully turned yet, since the normal demons disintegrate with enough of this stuff," He removes the rag from your now bloody shoulder, and returns to the table to dip the towel in the holy water once more. Your blood stains the water. He returns, holding the towel over your torso, stomach, and thighs. He wrings out the towel, causing the water to soak into your nightgown. The nightgown turns red quickly as your blood stains it. You scream, spitting up blood as you do so. He presses his hand against your mouth, the holy water seeping inside once more. "Our goal is to get that symbol on your palms to be gold, not black. It's not supposed to glow as it does now," You gnash your teeth together as your head swims in pain. "You don't have a say in the matter, either. You cannot have a black symbol, do you understand?" his voice was full of anger, almost hatred it seemed now, and yet he still kept his composure. He stepped back, glaring down at you. You were covered in blood, and spasming against the restraints. You gurgled out a strained, "I-I.. d..d-don't...un..understand.." Gabriel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "If you have a disgusting symbol, it indicates that you are filthy, unworthy creature. However, a beautiful symbol means you're capable of becoming a powerful, all-knowing being! Don't you want to become a beautiful angel?" he asks, finally showing a little more emotion. You cough and breathe for a moment or two, then look him directly in the eyes and spit, "N-Not if that's what you're sup..posed to be,"

Your remark earns you a slap in the face. You hiss as the numb nerves awaken with newfound pain. While your body ached unbearably, a lot of sensitive nerves went completely numb. "You're even acting like one of the filthy things! I won't stand for this kind of behavior, child," You've tuned him out at this point. You feel incredibly dizzy. Everything at home was going so well. Now look at yourself. Beaten up, covered in blood. Gabriel leans down to your level as the edges of your vision blurs. He mouths something and waves his hand. You're enveloped in a burning warmth as you're whisked away to your bed. You shoot up, gripping your covers and hyperventilating loudly. Tears streaked your face and you kicked the covers off of you. Crowley ran into your room, nearly falling on the way in. He opens his mouth to ask if you're alright, but stops in his tracks and stumbles back, "Oh my Satan, oh God, what the fuck, AZIRAPHALE!" He yells for your Papa, who comes jogging to your room. Meanwhile, you're spitting out blood and weakly trying to tear your nightgown off. Your breathing is ragged and blood is seeping onto the bed. "Oh my Heavens! Y/n!" the angel waves his hands and the holy water wounds vanish. You take a deep breath from your healed throat and immediately vomit up blood. Aziraphale miracles that away as well. They are talking either to you or about you. You can't tell which. As the noises around you fade back in, you begin to shake. The shaking becomes worse as the noises become louder. "Wait, wait Crowley! Just calm down, please! Let's help Y/n, then perhaps they will explain!" Crowley took two deep, shaky breaths. He knew that you didn't need confrontation. You needed comfort. "All right, s'alright Y/n," he gently lifts the stained nightgown off of your body, and hisses as it burns his hand. He throws it on the floor. He watches the skin on his thumb and forefinger sizzle, and feels a surge of rage in his system. "Gabriel," he hisses under his breath, the tone full of intense malice. "Crowley," Aziraphale reminds him tentatively.

"That fucking bassstard,"

"Alright dear, calm down, okay? Do you need to step away for a moment?"

The demon's lips are in a tight, thin line. A single tear trickles down his face. Then another. He pulls you into a tight hug, openly weeping into your hair as he holds you close. You didn't deserve whatever had just happened to you. He was going to fuck up Gabriel as soon as he got his hands on him. You lean into the hug, gripping onto the back of your father's shirt. Now Aziraphale is crying too. All this emotion is getting to him. Crowley reaches out his hand, allowing Aziraphale to join in the hug.

The three of you just held each other for a long time. You were the first to break the hug, you were sure they had questions, but you had questions first.

"What's wrong with me?" Your voice is quiet, hoarse. "Why do I have these horrible dreams?" You're already on the verge of crying. Aziraphale tries not to burst with tears again as he leans a little closer to wipe your face, "Oh darling," a tear does slip from his eye, "I'm afraid those aren't dreams that you've been having," You swallow hard, wiping your face with your hand. Crowley's eyes widen, "Wait, Y/n," You stop moving, and Crowley takes your arms in his hands. Large purple bruises are beginning to form where the straps around your wrist were. His eyes scan over them, then move down to your ankles, where there are more bruises forming. Then he looks you in the eyes and sees the large handprint on your face. A wave of fury washed over him, and everyone in the room.could feel it.

"Dear, it's alright-well it's not, but we can deal with this in a little while, okay?"

"How are you not furious about this?"

"Oh, believe me, I am. But y/n doesn't need us to be angry. They need us to comfort them."

Crowley takes a long deep breath, struggling to stay calm.

"Daddy?" You ask.

"What's up?"

You gently turn the red haired demon's face to the side, and stare at the black snake tattoo near his ear. Then you let go without another word. You look over to Aziraphale, trying to pinpoint what showed that he was an angel. Your eyes searched, then landed on the golden ring on his pinky finger. It never seemed to be off. It seemed to be something like Gabriel had described; beautiful. But you couldn't understand what he had meant by demon's symbols being filthy.

"D'you want to go watch a show? We can talk about what happened in the morning."

You nod, grabbing a ragdoll.

At some point Aziraphale had begun dressing you again, miracling away all the bruises as he went. You were now in a set of dinosaur pajamas. They were quite soft and comfortable. Crowley picked you up and Aziraphale picked up the holy water and blood stained nightgown, inspecting it before making it disappear out of existence. He was using his miracles rather extensively, but he couldn't care less. As he follows you and Crowley to the bedroom, he makes a promise to himself. _If Crowley can't go up to Heaven and figure out what's going on, then I will._


	11. Chapter 10

You couldn't go back to sleep that night. In the morning, Aziraphale cooked your favourite breakfast, but you just picked at your food. They had to urge you to eat just one bite. The angel and demon made the collective decision to keep you home from school today. Actually, they decided that last night, it was just reinforced by your behavior. After breakfast, they sat with you on the couch, unsure of how to start the conversation. You sat, staring at the ground. The phantom pain of the holy water still remained. Of course, there was no real injuries. But the scene kept playing through your head. "'I'm going to show you just how badly you've fucked up,'"

Blood. Muffled screams. Shaking plants. You looked at the palms of your hands through your blurred vision. The light doesn't exist outside of your "dreams". Why couldn't you just have normal hands? A larger hand gently took yours and you plunged back into reality. Aziraphale was gazing at you with a worried expression. "Dearest, I know you don't particularly want to talk about what happened last night, but we need to know what happened so we can prevent it from happening again."

"Yeah, tell us so I can kick Gabriel's ass," Crowley interjected. Aziraphale rolled his eyes, "Well, yes. Gabriel harmed you so he must face some sort of punishment, therefore if you could-"

You take a deep breath, "No."

"What?" came the simultaneous inquiry from both of your fathers.

"I said no. He did something bad, but if we attack him back, doesn't that make us as bad as he is?"

"Uh, no!" Exclaimed Crowley.

"Dear, he didn't just do something bad, he harmed you excessively. This torment at your expense absolutely cannot continue."

"I don't want anyone hurt because of me. Even the bad guys,"

"Y/n! There is-"

"Hold on angel, they may be onto somethin', not the right thing, but-!"

"Oh, Crowley! Don't tell me you're encouraging this horrible idea!"

"Just listen, Aziraphale, I think I've got a plan."

"Crowley I don't-"

"Aziraphale." Crowley insisted.

Aziraphale took a deep inhale, then exhaled. He had to remain calm and collected. Perhaps Crowley had an idea that would work. Any plan would be better than what they had now, after all. "Alright. Explain your plan,"

"Do you remember how when we raised Warlock, we sort of, eh.. influenced him to be both bad and good?"

"It was an even mix, yes,"

"Well, let's do that with Y/n!"

"What? Why?"

"I'd need confirmation from them, but as far as I can tell, the only reason that holy water worked is because Y/n is some kind of demon, but they aren't showing any demonic traits in the physical world,"

Aziraphale nods, slowly catching up to Crowley's thought process.

"Which leads me to believe that somehow, they can be influenced both ways. So if we get the right balance of angelic and demonic,"

"They could be essentially immune! Oh, that actually is quite a good plan!"

You were now listening fully, your interest piqued. Perhaps this plan could work. You just hoped that Gabriel didn't find out. Especially since Gabriel seemed to be at his wits end with you. Your fathers were talking for a while, occasionally asking you a question. Eventually, you piped up quietly, "Will anyone be hurt because of this?"

"I don't believe so my dear,"

"Not because of this. But in the near future I may be kicking some Archangel ass," to emphasize the statement, Crowley punches his left palm with his right fist. You heave a sigh, you didn't want anyone hurt, not through you and not through your dad. But that would be a problem for the future, for now, you just want to sleep without someone trying to kill you. The angel and demon are too caught up in their plan to notice you slip away. You make your way to your bedroom, closing the door when you get inside. Exhausted, but not wanting to sleep, you drag your toy box out and sit on the floor. That train set looks pretty appealing, so you grab the box and begin setting it up as you like. A curve here, a bridge there, and why is there a dead fly on your train track? There's a continuous buzzing sound coming from a few feet to your left. You let out a breath and set a track piece on the ground. Then, you look up. The person is wearing all black, a red sash popping out against the monotonous colour palette. They have pale skin, light blue eyes, ragged black hair with a large fly nested in it, and to top off the look, covered in the general ick. They wear a calm, laid back expression.

"So, Gabriel got to you first, eh?" They look around the room, scanning the general vicinity. You don't answer, staring at the individual with a monotonous expression. Sure, you were scared, but mainly curious. Whoever this was, they couldn't be worse than Gabriel. They didn't acknowledge your silence, and walked towards you. They stepped on your train tracks, unaffected by the newly created mess. They stopped in front of you and knelt down to your level. "I'm not going to lie, Y/n, you're an interesting specimen." They seemed to be inspecting your features, trying to find or memorize something. You start to feel uneasy, eyebrows furrowing, "Specimen?"

"Yes. You see child," They stand and begin pacing around you in a circle. "You are a very rare breed of creature, one of which we have very limited documentation on. We want to investigate you, identify what exactly you are. Both sides, Heaven and Hell are racing to see who can influence you the fastest. You will bring mass destruction upon the opposing force when the Great War finally commences."

They open their mouth to continue their monologue, but you interrupt them.

"I don't want to be on anyone's side! Who are you to tell me what I'm going to do? Or who I'm going to kill? Who says I have to live up to what you want me to be?" You are seething with anger and frustration. Why you? Why not some other kid? Beelzebub once again leans down, meeting you eye to eye. "It doesn't matter what you want. You will eventually choose a side, and then chaos will ensue. You are a key weapon in this war, and you don't have another choice. You are destined for chaos. A ticking time bomb." They ignore your befuddled expression, "Now I need to see your hands." You shake your head, "No! Da-" your mouth is covered hastily. The demons nails press into your cheek, and you can taste grime on your lips. You suddenly feel incredibly nauseated. You hold in the bile threatening to come up your throat.

"Shut up and let me see your hands," They have a grasp on you, arms wrapped around you as you struggle to get out. Their grip tightens as you shake your head. "I DEMAND you to show me your hands, you insolent little brat!" They grab your hands by force, and you are engulfed by a burning sensation. You can hear your skin crackle as the foreign symbol is revealed. You yanked your hands away, holding them close to your chest, and scream bloody murder through dirt covered hands. The burning stops, and with a loud, hurried snap, you hear running to your room. The door slams open. You are huddled into yourself, blood seeping from your hands and onto the floor. Tears are running down your face, and you can taste the saltiness they bring. Strong arms envelop you and you thrash about, attempting to escape. "Y/n stop! It's me!" The voice of Crowley rings out, and you stop struggling, opting to hold onto him for dear life. Crowley looks around the room, dead flies are spread out around the floor, and it stinks to high hell, literally. He steps over the train tracks with you in his arms, and makes his way to the living room. Aziraphale is walking hurriedly after him, fretting over you. "Oh dear, how could we have let them get out of our sight?" Crowley sits down on the couch, lifting you up to fix your palms. He investigates the symbol and looks to Aziraphale, "Look at that, angel." The timid angel sits next to him to inspect the charred mark. You watch them mutter a few words, then Crowley snaps his fingers, and the marks go away. "It would appear that they fluctuate easily between angel and demon. That was a hellfire mark." Crowley nods, "Yeah. So now we have two assholes to keep away from Y/n," You wipe away your tears and tune into the conversation. "Y/n, do you suppose you could tell us what happened this time?" It was blurry, but you managed to explain the main points of what Beelzebub had said. You didn't completely understand it yourself. But as the demon and the angel's faces paled, you could tell something horrible was going on.


End file.
